


Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

by Sarcasticles



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:28:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25099165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcasticles/pseuds/Sarcasticles
Summary: Rosi had never been good at telling the truth
Comments: 18
Kudos: 67





	Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

“Are you happy here?”

Rosinante looked up at his father’s tired, defeated eyes. He heard Doffy screaming from the next room over, drowning out Mother’s desperate attempts to calm him as he demanded they return to Mariejois. Rosi didn’t think his brother would hit her like he sometimes hit him when he didn’t get his way, but he wasn’t sure, and that frightened him. 

“Rosi?” Father prompted, reeling the boy’s wandering thoughts back to the question at hand. 

Rosinante fidgeted, dropping his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at his father’s earnest expression. There were things he _did_ like about living in the North Blue. He didn’t have to wear a bubble when he was outside, or watch the other children laugh as they hurt their slaves, or hear the hateful words their parents hurled as his mother and father. 

But this morning they’d had burnt eggs on burnt toast for breakfast, Mother laughing as she told the tale of how she nearly set the kitchen on fire trying to light the stove. Father’s moustache was crooked and there were bits of tissue paper stuck to his face where he’d cut himself shaving. Secretly Rosinante thought that his brother had a point, that their lives would be so much better if Father would let the family purchase a slave or two. Already his mother had ruined an attempt sewing a hole in his favorite stuffed animal, and Rosi had had to bear the indignity of doing household chores. 

Quietly, shamefully, Rosi wasn’t sure he wanted to be a human anymore. He squeezed his eyes closed as Father put his hands on his shoulders and lowered himself down to his knees. A Dragon never knelt, and at that moment Rosi felt like screaming, too. 

Instead he was forced to face his father. He saw his hopeful smile, strained to the point of breaking, and the bright shine of tears in his eyes. The grip on Rosinante’s shoulders tightened, fingers digging into tender flesh hard enough to bruise. 

“Please, Rosi,” his father begged. “Tell me that you’re happy.”

Rosinante swallowed, and somehow managed to smile in return even as Doffy’s tantrum echoed through the mansion’s empty halls. He knew what he had to say, even if it wasn’t true. 

“I am.”

* * *

“Are you sure about this, Rosinante?”

Rosi swallowed hard. He loved Sengoku like a father, but there were times he hated being in the same room as him. People called him the Buddah, but there was no kindness in his expression now, only sharp lines and steep crevices that displayed both his worry and his displeasure. He had reservations about Rosinante’s mission, that much was obvious. What was less clear was _why_. Did he not trust his adopted son to do what needed to be done? Was he worried that Doflamingo would appeal to the Celestial blood that ran in his veins? Rosinante tapped his fingers in a sharp staccato beat against the arm of his chair. Or was he simply concerned about his safety? 

No, that wasn’t it. Rosi had survived from hell and back. There was no pain, no weapon, that could compare to the terror of his childhood. Under Sengoku’s watchful eye he’d grown strong and clever. Clever enough to match wits with his brother, who was already amassing terrible power out of the North Blue. 

Cipher Pol had tried and failed to infiltrate his crew. Mariejois had sent their strongest knights, only for them to return in body bags. Vice Admiral Tsuru had made it her personal mission to wipe the scourge of the Heavenly Demon from the seas, and yet not only did Doflamingo live, but _thrive._

Rosinante had known since Father died that he would be the one to end his brother’s madness. 

“I have to do this.”

“He’s your brother,” Sengoku said. 

Rosi’s grip on his chair tightened. “He’s a _monster.”_

Doflamingo, the boy who would kill his own father in cold blood. Doflamingo, the boy who swore his revenge on all the world. Doflamingo, who even before their banishment was cruel and hateful to anyone he considered lesser than himself. 

Doffy, the boy who had yellow hair that burned like gold in the sunlight and a laugh colder than the glacial waters of the northern sea. Doffy, the boy with the charisma to draw people to him like flies to honey, only to pluck their wings and destroy their dreams with the crushing weight of his own ambition. 

Doffy, his brother, who had kept Rosinante alive with nothing but spite and sheer force of will, who had always insisted on dragging him to greater and greater heights, whether Rosi wanted to accompany him or not. 

Sengoku’s eyes narrowed, cold and calculating. He was a man used to making hard and difficult choices. But this was his hardest and most difficult yet, and Rosi wasn’t sure if it was because of any genuine attachment or if he was afraid of losing too valuable a chess piece in a rapidly changing world. 

“If all goes well, you’ll be in a position to put an end to Doflamingo permanently. When that time comes, are you sure you’ll be able to pull the trigger?”

Rosinante didn’t hesitate. “Yes, sir.”

* * *

There was no doubting that Doflamingo had greatness in him. It cloaked him alike an aura, some vestige of his celestial halo, inspiring those around him. A threadbear, overstuffed seat became a throne if Doflamingo sat in it, his pink-feathered coat his royal vestments. Though he mingled with the small people of the world, the dirty and the downtrodden, he could never be mistaken for an ordinary person. The blood of kings ran in his veins, and the insatiable desire of his ambition would not be satisfied until he ruled the heavens and used the earth as his footstool. 

Rosi wondered sometimes what would have happened if Sengoku had found Doffy instead. He wasn’t sure the wildness of his brother’s spirit could ever be tamed, but thought, maybe, that it could have been directed toward a noble purpose. The world needed good rulers just as much as it needed good soldiers, but as the years went on it became increasingly clear that neither Donquixte brother was able to adequately fulfill the role they’d been given. 

“Corazón,” Doffy said, savoring the taste of the word as it rolled off his tongue. He loved using the name he’d trapped Rosi with, the title that told all the world who it was he belonged to. “How are the plans coming along?”

Rosi pointed to the map he had laid out in front of him as Doffy edged closer. His brother brushed away bits of cigarette ash, chuckling, “You’ll burn my plans to nothing if you aren’t careful.”

Cold sweat beaded at Rosi’s forehead, but he kept each breath even and controlled. It was just a turn of the phrase, nothing to get worked up about. There was no way he could suspect that he’d already alerted Tsuru of their position. 

Doflamingo traced his finger over the map, mad grin growing madder. “I want you to look after Law.” He lifted a hand as Rosi stiffened. “I know, I know, you don’t like the kids, but this one’s different. He’s already proven he’s going to stick around, and he doesn’t have time to waste hanging in the background with Baby 5 and Buffalo. He needs to get his hands dirty.”

Rosi tilted his head in silent question. 

“More dirty,” Doffy allowed. He tapped a knuckle against the map, where their newest mark was circled in blood-red ink. “Do you feel it, Rosi? His potential?”

It was rare for Doflamingo to ask his insight like this. As much as he was able to decipher Rosi’s looks and quirks with uncanny accuracy, they never had much to say to one another. There was too big a gulf between them to ever be bridged. 

Doffy trusted him, else he wouldn’t have made him his right hand man. But he didn’t understand Rosi anymore than Rosinante understood the fury and madness that made his brother want to set the world on fire. 

Or maybe they understood too well, while standing on different sides.

But Law...Law’s vision matched Doflamingo’s perfectly. His brother saw that, and wanted to steal the boy’s hate and use it to fuel his own ambition. 

“Keep him safe, alright?” Doffy said. “I’m gonna need him around when he gets older.”

Even if he dared speak, Rosinante’s mouth went suddenly dry, constricting his throat and strangling what little air he had out of his lungs. He’d suspected already that Doffy was looking for a way around Law’s time limit, and if he succeeded…

Law was smart and he was fearless and he was _angry._ Oh, so very angry. Rosi saw the same fire burning in his eyes that shone in Doflamingo’s when they hung on the city wall. Once Doffy sunk his hooks into him he would never let go. Already the boy cared for nothing but the next person he could hurt. If his brother was able to channel those destructive instincts on his enemies then he might just succeed in bringing the world to his knees. 

Rosi left Doffy to his maps, pausing only to clasp his hand on his brother’s shoulder. Doflamingo’s smile grew. “I knew I could trust you.”

Of course Rosinante couldn’t answer, so he left in search of Law. The knife wound in his side throbbed with every step. He couldn’t let Doffy have the boy; there was too much at stake. But neither had he succeeded in chasing him away. Doflamingo offered Law the one thing he craved, and like an addict looking for his next fix, Law would jump through any hoops to stay by his side. To learn, to grow, to destroy. 

Sengoku would have said it was worth doing the hard thing if it meant keeping the world safe. History said his mentor and father-figure had put those words into practice often enough. But Rosi wasn’t sure he was strong enough to do the hard thing, the _right_ thing. There had to be another option. 

Except that was a lie. It was always a lie, and not even Rosi could convince himself it was true. 

* * *

“I finally found it! The Op-Op Fruit!”

Even in the cold, spots of fever bloomed on milk-white skin. Between panting breaths, Law rasped, “The building’s on fire...I heard gunshots, I thought...I thought something happened.”

Black stars danced behind Cora’s eyes. The pain of countless wounds needled the edge of his temper. “Knock it off, this is the fruit that’s going to save your life!”

“Even if I eat it, doesn’t mean it’s gonna save me.”

There wasn’t time to argue, for him or for Law. Cora forced the fruit down Law’s throat before the strength left his legs completely. Blood trickled down his cheek and stained the white snow red. He didn’t care. They’d won, it was over. He could take Law...and run...and be free of Doflamingo forever…

Cora almost laughed. He’d always been a liar, but even so. He usually he stuck to stories that were believable. His pulse thundered impossibly loud in his ears, almost drowning out Law’s hysterics at the sight of his wounds. 

But Law...Law needed help. He needed someone to show him there was another way, that he didn’t have to fall into Doffy’s madness. And to do that Cora needed to survive, and his brother needed to be taken somewhere far away where his poison could never hurt anyone every again. 

It was ironic, in a way, that just as Cora resolved himself to live that Law unwittingly sealed his doom. Perhaps it was inevitable. After all, People of D were God’s natural enemy. The same blood in Doffy’s veins ran in his, just as terrible, just as evil. Though he’d renounced his title long ago, there was a time that Cora had lived as a god. Delayed as it was, his punishment was just. 

For some reason, Cora was okay with that.

“What’s going to happen to you?” Law asked. He settled down into the empty treasure chest, naked fear in his eyes. Cora didn’t think he’d have the strength to stop him if he did something foolish, so he smiled. 

“Doffy wants you and the fruit. I’m his blood brother. He might be furious, but he won’t kill me.”

It was worth it to see the hopeful grin spread across his face. For all that he’d suffered, there was still an innocence in Law. He believed what Cora said, because it’s what he wanted to believe, even if it wasn’t true.

“I’m sorry for lying.”

There was a certain magic in those words, a panacea stronger than anything the Op-Op Fruit had to offer. For just a moment every hard line on Law’s face softened, and he looked like a boy again instead of the sick, angry man Doflamingo wanted him to become. 

“I didn’t want you to hate me.”

Cora felt Law’s fists pounding against the rough wooden box. He had to hang on just a little bit longer now, and it would all be over. The sting of regret hurt more than the bullet wounds, guilt crushing him more than the blows of the Doflamingo Family. He was a good for nothing, sorry klutz of a man who made a disaster out of everything he touched. Even now, with everything all on the line, he couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger. 

”You can’t have him. Law’s _free._ ”

The darkness was coming in, enveloping him like the sable feathers of his cloak. His arms too cold and heavy to even lift his gun, but still he hung on. For Law’s sake, he would stave off Death for as long as he could. 

His breathing slowed, eyes too heavy to keep open. Time was running out. He’d told so many lies, he could only hope that Law would believe him when for once he spoke the truth. 

“I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written basically in one sitting, with minimal editing, and without consulting canon. Basically just needed to get this one out of my system


End file.
